An Apple a Day
by PippaPiperPipes
Summary: A few little stories on when Edward has been sick and/or injured. How does Carlisle handle his doctor fearing son?   Another, Little Edward story.  Definitely AU and my characters are a bit OOC
1. Chapter 1

_**Here is yet another Little Edward story. Edward is around four in this little chapter. Sorry if it sucks. Btw; I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.**_

Edward never liked the doctor. In fact, there were times I worried that he would grow up hating me, since I am one. But, somehow he was able to tell the difference between "Dr. Carlisle," and "Daddy." Actually, it seems like he has made them two different people. Yes, he loves his daddy, yet hates Dr. Carlisle with a passion. Many times, after a checkup, when I took him home, he would tell me how mean Dr. Carlisle is and how he hopes to "never see that bad man again." I've tried to explain to him that Dr. Carlisle and I were one in the same, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Yet another thing I have to worry about.

Anyway, Edward hates the doctor. And sick or not he always puts up one hell of a fight when he has to be seen by a doctor. I swear, even if he was on the brink of death he would still scream bloody murder if taken to the hospital. That's why I'm stalling.

Edward seemed to be coming down with the sniffles a few days ago, but those sniffles turned into a constantly running nose and a harsh watery cough. He fussed anytime I tried to look him over, even though I was simply "daddy." I dread having to take him to the hospital, but the supplies I may need are there. Also, having someone there to help keep him still makes these things so much easier. For me anyway.

So I put it off, for too long, unfortunately. What had once been mere sniffles had now turned my hyper little boy into a lethargic little beast. He was absolutely miserable and was hell bent on making everyone join that misery. In the daytime, anyway. At night he simply cried. I had spent every night for the past three days trying desperately to get my son to sleep. Nothing worked. I rocked him, sang to him, told him stories, fed him warm milk, and any soothing tonic that I could force down his throat. But nothing could relax my fussy little boy. He simply spent the hours wailing pitifully, begging me to make him better, until he passed out from mere exhaustion. My poor baby.

Today, I could stand it no more. Edward was going with me to the hospital even if it killed me, which possibly could happen. So now, at this moment, I sit, rocking my child, trying vainly to calm his misery long enough to get done what needs to get done.

"Daddy" He whimpered pitifully. "Daddy, make it stop. Make the hurts stop." Oh how I wanted to simply bawl. My poor little, helpless baby.

"I know honey. Daddy's gonna make it better soon. We to get you dressed in something warmer first. Come now, sit up. Can you sit up for Daddy?" I dressed him as quickly as possible, wanting to get this over with as fast as I could. When I was satisfied that Edward was efficiently bundled, I hurried to brave the elements of a Chicago winter.

As soon as I opened the door, a biting gust of wind hit us. I knew it was cold for it even caused me to give a small shudder. I pulled Edward closer, wrapping him in my coat. I quickly ran down the steps of our small house and began making my way to the hospital. _I really should think about getting a car._ I thought to myself as I hustled along. Edward squirmed unhappily in my arms.

"Daddy, I'm getting' all sweaty." He whined. I gently patted his back and cooed softly .

"Shh, I know darling. We'll get there soon don't worry." At least it wasn't snowing. I quickened my step a bit; no one was out in this freezing weather so I risked going a little faster than normal. Finally we were in front of the hospital. I all but sprinted up the front steps. Edward fussed, trying to turn to see where we were.

"Hold still Edward. Just a little further and you can come out." This seemed to appease his fever riddled mind, for he gave a small nod and laid his warm head on my chest. Moments later I burst into my office, quickly depositing Edward on the desk then stuck my head outside the office door, grabbing the first nurse to pass to help me.

"Daddy!" Edward shrieked as he began recognizing his surroundings. "W-why are we here? I don't wike da 'ospital!" I cringed as he fell into his toddler talk.

"I know baby, but you're sick and daddy needs to make you better." I walked toward him slowly, holding my stethoscope out to show him I meant no harm. It didn't work.

"NOOOOOOOO!" The nurse shot me a worried look, most likely cursing me for bringing her into this. "No, no, NO! No want! No want! Bad Dr. Carlisle! Bad, bad, bad! Want daddy! Just daddy!"

I quickly maneuvered around him, checking his heart, his lungs (which seemed to be working well enough for him to scream), his mouth, eyes, and nose. I came to the unhappy conclusion that Edward had caught that nasty flu that had been circulating about. Most of the kids in his class had had it, but as always, this unwanted bug had hit Edward harder than most.

"Look bud, all done. No need to fuss anymore." Oh, if only. I turned to a still stunned nurse and asked her if she would draw up the necessary shots for me. I looked back down at Edward, his teary eyes making me want to just gather him up and never let go. But I had to play the bad guy one more time.

"Ok, you're going to feel a little bit of a pinch Edward, and then we're all done."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Yes, I'd say his lungs worked just fine.

Back at home, after many tears, kisses, and "dat Dr. Carwisle is a meanie, Daddy", Edward lay quietly in my arms, getting some much needed rest. Now and then, when he begin to fuss a bit, I whisper soft words of comfort, nonsense words really, but they held enough meaning to help Edward settle. I looked down at his peaceful face, his chubby cheeks had lost their fevered flush and his breathing came smoother without any rasping.

His thumb was held firmly between his pouty lips, his other hand curled delicately in my shirt. Every now and then he would nuzzle his sweet cherub face into my chest, releasing a satisfied sigh. I smiled at my sleeping son. Moments like these make me wish I could climb into bed with my precious bundle and drift off to dream land with him. But alas, I was awake. So I guarded him. Chasing away the monsters, the big scaries, and that mean old Dr. Carlisle.

_**The end, for now. Please let me know what you all think. **_


	2. Needless Needles

"What is that?"

"It's a needle."

"Why are you pointing it at me?"

"Because you need a flu shot. I want to try avoiding you getting sick every other week this winter." I watched my father warily as he came closer with that dreaded instrument of doom.

"Why? I don't mind being sick. It really isn't that bad." My voice quivered as he handed the implement of torture to the nurse that had offered to help with my checkup. I don't much care for her. My father shook his head; a small smile graced his serious face.

"That's nice to know Edward, but unfortunately, you aren't the only other person who suffers when you get sick. I worry about 24/7 when you come down with the flu, plus you're miserable which makes me miserable, and to top it all off, you get incredibly gassy when you're sick." I blushed in embarrassment as the nurse did nothing to muffle her giggles.

"I am not gassy! And if I am it's because of all the oatmeal you make me eat when I get sick! Haven't you heard of the chicken noodle soup remedy? That's normal, and has much more flavor." I crossed my arms and stuck my bottom lip out. A classic Edward pout as my father calls it. The nurse snorted, smirking none too nicely at me.

"Aw, is Eddie scared? I thought eight year-olds were big boys. I guess I was wrong, huh Eddiekins?" I may be eight years-old, but at least I know how to talk. I was about to through that in her face when my father spoke up.

"Rosalie, please stop taunting him. He doesn't enjoy getting shots, it's perfectly normal. Even adults fear it." I gave him a smile while Rosalie glared at me. I wonder why she was allowed to be a pediatric nurse. Or any nurse at all. She seems more concerned with her appearance more than anyone in this hospital. And by the way she was looking at me I doubted she had much concern on whether or not a patient was in pain. Why did Carlisle give her that needle?

I slid off the examination table and scurried over to my father, my bare feet slapping against the cold tiled floor. "Daddy." I whimpered, throwing my arms around his waist and pushing my face into his side. "I really don't want a shot daddy. It will hurt, and it's scary, and Rosalie will be mean about it." I sniffled, not really sure if I was playing up the fear I felt or really just wanted my daddy to hold me. I think it was both. I definitely need him to protect me from Rosalie and right now, being squashed against his side seemed like the safest place for me.

"You can put the syringe on the table Rosalie, I', sure I can handle this myself." He said as he patted my head. Rosalie looked like she wanted to gag.

"Are you sure Dr. Cullen? You don't need me to hold him down or anything? I've seen the types of tantrums he can throw just of the mention of a needle." She smirked at me again. Carlisle gave a chuckle.

"Yes, he can be quite vocal in those moments. But I've had eight years of practice, and I think he would be more comfortable if it were just me." He reached down, grabbing me under the arm pits and pulling me up to his hip. I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms about his cool neck. His chilly skin felt good on my overheated skin. I rested my head on his shoulder, letting his soft soothing voice calm my fear.

Rosalie finally left with a flip of her long golden hair and an exasperated sigh. Carlisle kissed my forehead before gently stroking my bronze locks. He gave me a quiet smile, still holding me on his hip.

"It will be over soon sweetheart. I promise to make it hurt as little as possible." His kind yellow eyes stared into mine. Chewing my bottom lip nervously, I slowly nodded, telling him I would go along with this horrible torture. He smile before kissing my forehead again.

"Good boy. If you want I can hold you while giving you the shot." I nodded again, my arms holding tighter to him. "Please daddy." I whispered, suddenly more fearful to my upcoming pain.

He sat down on a nearby chair, situating me on his lap so I faced him. He picked up the needle and a cotton swab. He rubbed it against my arm. It was cold and wet. Then came the needle. Long, hard, and dangerous. I shivered, my teeth beginning to chatter. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I could feel tears beginning to well up. The pointed end came closer; I screwed my eyes up, not wanting to see it break my skin.

Pain suddenly hit me. I whimpered at the sting of the needle piercing my skin and at the burn of the medicine coursing through my veins. Carlisle kept making little 'shh' noises, trying to calm me. It felt like it would go on forever, then, just when I thought I could take no more, it was gone, leaving behind a dull ache in my arm. I opened my eyes up to a smiling Carlisle.

"See." He said as he placed a Band-Aid on my arm. "That wasn't so bad." I just sniffled, my arms once again wrapping around his neck. "I better not get sick this winter." I mumbled into his chest. He chuckled, the sound vibrating though his chest. "I second that." He said quietly.

He kissed my head, rubbing my back and rocking slightly. "Go to sleep now Edward. You had a long day baby." I nodded, resting my head on his chest. As I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but think about the question that has bothered me since I was little.

Why doesn't my daddy's heart beat?


	3. A Daddy is a Daddy

**Ok, so you know how I said I was going to post a chapter about Edward finding out his dad was a vampire. Yeah, that chapter kind of turned into a full blown story that makes my heart hurt. It's filled with angst D: Since you guys are wonderful and give me nice reviews even though I don't really deserve them, I decided to write a semi lengthy chapter in this story for you while I prepare to post my other story. **

**Edward is ten, he knows Carlisle is a vampire, and at the moment, he is absolutely miserable. Enjoy! Or not, you don't have to. **

I groaned. Everything hurt. My chest, my arms, my legs, my head, even my hair hurt. I tried to open my eyes, but my eye lids seemed to be crusted together. I could hear soft murmurs. They were muddled, kind of like I was listening to them under water. One voice stood out. It sounded so familiar, yet I just couldn't place it.

"Edward! Son, can you hear me?" Something cold was brushing my face. Ice? No, it wasn't wet. And who was Edward? Why wouldn't he answer?

"Edward, please." Ok, this Edward person must be a real jerk if he doesn't answer this guy. Poor man sounded like he was about to cry. Again, I tried to open my eyes to see what was going on. They fluttered open slightly, only to be blinded by a vile light.

"Edward? Edward, are you awake?" Was this guy talking to me? I'm Edward? That's not a very flattering name. That's the kind of name you here kids calling their great-great uncle. Still, it does have a certain ring to it. Makes me sound sophisticated. Whoever was talking to me spoke again.

"Edward, open your eyes son." I shook my head slightly, regretting it when a sharp pain pulsed through my temple. "Too bright." I croaked. My throat felt like a dessert. Hot and dry. I tried wetting my cracked lips so I could beg for water. No use. My tongue was a piece of sand paper. I felt like crying, but I don't think any tears would come out even if I tried. That didn't stop me from whimpering like a kicked puppy though. Cool hands found their way to my forehead, stroking lightly.

"Shh, it's going to be ok. I promise, you're going to be fine." That voice is so familiar, so comforting. I know I've heard it before. Where have I heard it? Oh…yeah. "Dad?"

"I'm here baby." A gentle whisper and cold fingers. "I'm not going anywhere." The scent of the woods lingered on him, he must have been hunting. "You're safe now." I let out a sigh. I think it was a relieved sigh. Relieved that my dad was with me, that he would protect me, that I knew who he was. Yeah, I should probably tell him about my brief moment of amnesia, but I'm so tired.

"Dad." I whispered again, hoping that one word will tell him everything I need him to know. It seems to work. "Go to sleep son. I'll be here when you wake up." With the feeling of cool lips being pressed to my forehead, I let the darkness consume me.

The next time I woke I was in a white room with large windows. I tried to move and found that I couldn't. I was strapped to the bed. I was a little panicked, usually only nut cases had to be strapped to the table, right? I wanted my dad. I needed him. "Dad." I knew he would be able to hear me wherever he was. Turns out he wasn't far at all. The moment the word left my lips my father leaned over my bed, looking at me with concerned eyes.

"Hey bud. How are you feeling?" He asked as he brought his stethoscope up to my chest. I groaned as the cool metal touched my overheated flesh. "Like I fell off a building. What happened?" My father gave me a look. "You don't remember?" I shook my head as much as I could.

Carlisle sighed and gently ran a hand threw my hair. "You fell out of a tree. Twenty-five feet." His voice croaked a little. "It's a miracle you aren't dead." He gave a humorless laugh before a small sob escaped him. "Dad?"

"What the hell were you doing Edward? The kids who were with you said you jumped. That you jumped out of a tree because someone dared you." Oh…yeah...it all came flooding back, unfortunately. "Mike Newton was making fun of me." I rasped out. "He said I was nothing but a baby and that I never did anything manly." I know, I know, very stupid. But hey, I 'm ten, and besides, I think I'm paying for it now. My father stared at me in disbelief. "You jumped out of a tree because Mike Newton called you a baby?" Uh oh.

I wanted to try to give him an explanation, but it hurt to talk. I whimpered, hoping to draw out some sympathy. My father quickly started checking me over, for what I'm sure was the millionth time. He gave me the rundown of my injuries. A broken leg, a shattered wrist, several bruised ribs and few broken, four cuts that needed stitches, and a possible concussion.

"Why am I strapped to the bed?" I managed to whisper in the middle of his ranting. He was gently prodding my ribs when he answered, "We have to make sure you don't move. Your body has gone through serious trauma; we can't risk you hurting yourself further." I didn't like being tied down. Mostly because right now, I just wanted my dad to hold me. With that thought in mind I burst into tears.

I might seem like a big baby to some, but hey. I was ten; I was hurting, and scared. I didn't know what would happen and I could even cling to my father to soak up his comfort. I was alone. My chest and ribs ached with each powerful sob and my head began to pound. As I cried, I began begging for the one thing I really wanted.

"Daddy! Daddy, please! Don't leave me. Please!" Cool hands were stroking my face again, but I wanted more. I wanted to burry myself in his chest and never come out. I began trying to pull against the straps that held my wrists and ankles. Pain shot threw me.

"D-d-daddy! P-p-please, help me!" He began to shush me softly, whispering words of comfort as he held my head in his hands. He covered my face with kisses and lay his forehead against mine, giving me as much comfort as he could. "I'm right here baby. I'm not going anywhere."

I ended up spending two weeks in the hospital. It was long and boring just sitting in a bed every day, but my dad tried to make it as interesting as possible. He would bring me books and toys and spend as much time as he could by my bed side. After three days of being tied to the bed, he finally was able to hold me. At night he would sit me in his lap and rock me to sleep in the old rocking chair out near the waiting room. I would lay my head on his chest, listening to the vibrations of his voice as he talked or sang. Sometimes he was quiet though. During those times, I would listen, my ears straining to hear a heartbeat from my father's cold chest. I knew what he was, I don't think I'll ever forget the day I found out he was a vampire, even though I really want to. That was a bad day. Long story short, I thought my father hated me; turns out he was just a vampire who hadn't eaten in two months. Yeah, it was bad.

I was scared of him. For over a week I refused to come near him. I remember the hurt and self-loathing shinning in my father's eyes every time I flinched near him. I don't flinch anymore. I came to realize, vampire or human, my daddy was my daddy and he loved me more than life itself. And I can't live without that love.

But back to my current dilemma. I was grounded for two weeks after I got out of the hospital. He also made me write a paper telling why we never jump out of trees. Unfortunately, my writing hand was not the hand that got broken, so I had to spend an afternoon writing and rewriting till my dad was happy. Dad had a long talk with the Newton's, basically telling them to keep their son away from me.

I couldn't wait to get these stupid casts off, they itch and are hot. I think my dad wants them off soon too, so he won't have to hear me complain about it anymore. After a month and a half I was finally given a clean bill of health. No more casts, or stiches, or dads who worried every time I groaned. He can be such a Dr. Cullen sometimes.

After this incident I was a little clingy with my dad. I always tried to be in the same room with him and be as close as I could. When he was in the living room, I was right next him, leaning into his side. When he was making dinner, my arms would be wound tightly around his middle. When he was in his office, I would either be playing on the floor, sitting at the extra chair at his desk, or sitting in his lap. My father was patient, as usual, letting me cling to him. However, he made me sleep in my own bed. He always stayed with me till I fell asleep, and he never turned me away when I came to his bed sobbing after a nightmare. But he thought I needed to have that part of the day to myself.

One evening, after brushing my teeth and taking a bath, which I protested strongly, I sat on my father's lap, leaning heavily against his chest as sleep began to cloud my mind. All I could hear was the soft humming of my father, lulling me to sleep as he rocked us. Yeah, vampire or human, my daddy is my daddy.


	4. Baby Eddiepoo

**Hello. I'm sorry I'm such a slow poke. I promise to get some more stuff up this weekend. But, I thought I should give you something to show how truly grateful I am to everyone who reads this. I know I'm kind of a crap writer so thank you to everyone for your very kind reviews, you make me feel like I'm doing something right. Well, on to another chapter.**

"What were you thinking? No, you don't need to answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking, nothing! You never think! Not when it really matters! How can someone be so smart and yet so stupid?!"

"Dad, you just hurt my feelings. You cut me deep, real deep." Edward looked up at me with fake hurt shining in his eyes. Well not totally fake, but most of that was fueled by the broken arm he was sporting. Not to mention the other little scrapes and bruises that danced across his skin. I never thought a vampire could feel tired, but this boy proved me wrong.

"Oh, lighten up dad. This isn't all that bad. I don't even feel anything, I swear."

"Well that's good to know. Now I won't feel so bad for when I make you clean the garage, that lawn and the attic. I was going to wait until you cast came off, but if you feel fine, then I guess you can start as son as we get home." I gave his leg a pat, smirking as his eyes widen a bit in disbelief.

"Well, you know dad, I didn't want to worry you, but my arm is a little sore. Probably shouldn't do any heavy lifting for at least a…week…maybe two."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. Don't want to strain myself that would only make things worse." He bit his bottom lip, giving an exaggerated wince as he laid his casted arm onto his lap.

"Don't worry Eddie, you'll get plenty of rest. You're grounded for the next three months, should give you lots of time to heal." I turned away from him, catching a glimpse of his stunned face. Hehe, I get such a tickle out of that face.

"Three months! Dad, are you crazy? What I did wasn't that bad!" He tried to push himself out of bed, giving a very real wince this time.

"Oh really? Let's rethink that for a minute shall we. Why are you lying in this hospital?"

"Dad…"

"Can I get an answer please?" He jerked his broken arm up into the arm, a muffled grunt of pain barely passing his lips. "I broke my arm. Happy?"

"No, not really. Now, do you want to tell me how you broke your arm?" He rolled his eyes, giving his head a disgusted shake. "I think I would watch that attitude if I were you, mister. I really don't think you're naive enough to think you would get away with this." He glared at me, his cheeks turning pink with frustration.

"It wasn't that bad." He grounded out between clenched teeth. It was my turn to roll my eyes and shake my head in disgust.

"Not that bad? Edward, you stole my car! You're 14 years-old and you're already guilty of grand theft auto! Are you proud of that? Are you proud that you stole your father's car? And wrecked it I might add!" Wrecked it and walked away with only a broken wrist. I want to vomit every time I think of what could have happened.

"I didn't see the lamp post, ok! Or the mailbox. Or the milk truck. Or the…"

"Cat! You almost killed our neighbor's cat." I threw my hands up in the air, letting them fall back into my lap with a sharp slap.

"I'm sorry, ok? I know it was stupid and I know I deserved to be punished. But three months? Dad, isn't that a little extreme?" I shook my head as I came over to sit with him on the bed.

"Nope, in fact, part of me really wants to ground you for longer." He opened his mouth to protest but I cut him off. "I'm at my whit's end, Edward. I don't know what to do. You spend more time in this hospital bed then you do your own. I mean sometimes it feels like you spend more time hurt than healthy. And I hate to say it, but a lot of the time it's your own fault when you get hurt. You do something, like jump out of tree because someone dared you or stole a car because your father said you were too young to drive. And look what happens, you end up here. For once, I would like you to come to visit me at work because you want to, not because you almost died."

Edward refused to look at me. His eyes stared at his cast. Part of me wondered if he was going to cry. He would if he was younger. A selfish part of me kind of wished he would, then at least I could hold him. And Lord knows I'd feel so much better if he were in my arms. Nothing could hurt him there. He couldn't get himself killed in my arms. But no, the fool boy had to go and prove how human he was to me almost every day! And now that he's older, anytime I hug him he pushes me away. Well, almost every time. He still has his moments when he needs the protection of my arms around him too. But I guess this isn't one of those moments.

"Dad." His voice was small, I barely heard it. "Dad, I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you, honest. And I know that you worry even more since you're a…you know. Death scares you more. At least my death does."

"Edward, no parent wants to put their child in the ground, but I know someday I will have to. But on that day, you better be old and wrinkly. You will die from old age boy, do you hear me? Old age and nothing else!" A small smile crept onto his face. "Got it dad."

We sat in silence for a few moments; his uninjured hand lay in mine. A small comfort, but a comfort none the less. I rub his knuckles with my thumb. He may be 14, but his hands are still so small compared to mine.

"Hey dad, wanna sign my cast?" Oh, my baby boy always knows how to bring a small smile to my face.

"Sure bud. Got pen?"

"There's one on the counter over there." I retrieved the pen and took his broken arm into my hand. I swear my boy is going to give this old a vampire a heart attack someday. Most would tell you the living dead could have a heart attack, but Edward will discover a way to make it possible. I scribbled a short message onto his stark white cast before putting the en down. He turned his arm to see what I wrote.

"DAD!" He looked at me with such a shocked look that I burst out laughing. " '_**Get well soon my baby Eddie-poo. Hugs and lots of kisses-Daddy!**_ Heart? You drew a heart? Dad! My friends are going to see this!" I grinned like a fool.

"Well, next time you get the urge to do some life threatening stunt, just think about what I might write on you cast. Sound good…my baby Eddie-poo?" I quickly placed a kiss on his forehead before he could explode and all but sprinted out the door. Just as I closed it, he blew.

"DAD! I WILL KILL YOU!" Sometimes I think I enjoy being a dad too much.

**So, good? Bad? Waste of time? Well, I hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought and I promise, PROMISE, that I will get some more stuff uploaded this weekend. Like that story about Edward finding out Carlisle is a vampire. Yeah, I'll get that up. Thank you everyone!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Back track a little, Edward is 13? I think…I don't remember…**

**This story is inspired by the fact that I am, at the moment, one big walking mosquito bite. I thought I would write this to keep myself from scratching. Enjoy.**

Edward groaned unhappily as he lay on his stomach, his head buried in his pillow. His father's cool hands gently ran up and down his sore, itchy legs.

"I hate this!" He cried miserably. Carlisle shook his head.

"I hate to say it, but you have no one to blame but yourself, Edward. Just think of this as punishment for sneaking out when you should have been sleeping."

Edward groaned again. This wasn't fair at all. Yeah, he snuck out, but he was thirteen, it isn't that uncommon. And it wasn't like he was doing anything bad. He and Jacob just went to a bonfire.

Jacob's family had them often and Edward had always really wanted to go. So when Jacob came to tell Edward his father agreed to let him invite a friend and that he wanted Edward to come, well, Edward was ecstatic. He ran home, happily telling his father of his upcoming adventure. Problem was, Carlisle wasn't quite as thrilled as his son.

He firmly told Edward that he would not be joining his friends that night. Carlisle wasn't exactly friendly with Mr. Black and never really trusted him. Edward being Edward didn't take kindly to being told no, but no amount of begging, or pleading, or screaming could change his father's stubborn mind.

Later that night, after Edward was tucked safely into his bed, the young boy lay sulking, refusing to let sleep take him. Then, around 11:23 he heard his father leave the house, most likely to hunt. Edward smiled to himself as he realized his opportunity. He quickly got dressed into a long sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts and scrambled out the window. He ran to Jacob's house as fast as he could.

The bonfire was awesome! They sang old songs, told ghost stories, and there was a ton there. The coolest part was when Mr. Black told of an old legend about werewolves.

By the time the fire had burned down to glowing embers Edward was ready to fall asleep on his feet. He knew his father was probably be home by now and that he was in big trouble, but at the moment he was too tired to care. As he walked home softly humming a song he had heard that night, he began to notice a prickly pain in his leg. He brushed his exposed skin with the back of his hand, thinking he man have scratched it on a passing thorn.

Suddenly, he heard a high pitched buzzing by his ear. He groaned. Mosquitoes! Damned bugs! Their unpleasant bites always made him swell twice of a normal bug bite and it felt like a swarm had decided to make a meal of his poor legs.

He took off running; hoping a moving target would be too bothersome to bite. By the time he scrambled back through his bedroom window his legs burned and itched. He stared at them in disgusted horror as the red bites turned to swollen welts. He could hear Carlisle heading up the stairs, most likely ready to scold him. As his father opened to door he let out a miserable sigh and accepted his fate.

At times Edward wondered if scolding was a sport. It sure wore him out just listening to it. Carlisle would have been a gold medalist if it was a sport. He scolded Edward for a good half hour after he found his son sitting miserably on his bed, smelling of smoke and covered in bug bites. Edward tried to play on his sympathies by complaining about his itchy welts, but Carlisle stayed strong until the end. He was grounded, big surprise, for two weeks. Carlisle gave one last look of disapproval before retrieving a bottle of aloe from the medicine cabinet.

So here they are, Edward bitterly grumbling about how all mosquitoes should burn in hell, and Carlisle chuckling at his son's antics as he rubs soothing gel onto the swollen flesh.

More than once Edward would let his hand drop down to his leg in an attempt to scratch only to have his father swat his hand away. This only served to increase Edward's grumbling as well as Carlisle's chuckling.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" Edward groaned as his father returned the lotion back to the bathroom.

"Maybe if you would stop looking for trouble these things wouldn't happen." Carlisle smirked as his son gave him an offended look.

"I don't go looking for it, it finds me!"

"Hmm, of course it does my mistake." Edward scowled and Carlisle laughed. "If you make that face too long it will freeze like that." He joked as he kissed his son's nose. Edward rubbed the kiss away, muttering an unhappy, "Will not" under his breath.

Carlisle gave him a found smile as he pushed the boy's bronze bangs out if his eyes.

"Get some sleep son. You need it after your late night adventure." Edward gave a nod before snuggling down under the covers. He even tolerated the kiss his father placed on his head.

"Goodnight my little escape artists." Carlisle whispered as his son drifted off to sleep.

**Ok, that wasn't the best, all right, it was plain awful, but I wrote it on my phone! Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviews! And to everyone who follows or favorites! You guys are awesome! Now, review? Please?**


End file.
